In Therapy
She sits across from me
In knee-high boots
With a heart on each sole.
Making copious notes
In the book with my name on.
She washes me gently in
Waves of care and compassion.
She listens intently as I
Stutter through my story,
Gently holding my trembling psyche,
Supporting and suggesting
As I wobble through the onion-ring mazes.
She hands me her ipod
With the bouncing balls ready to
Do their magic.
She asks me to rate my distress
And beliefs.
I watch the screen as
My brain re-sets
And my emotions
Re-align with the present.
(My body still struggles to keep up,
Still unsure of safety).
The dark corners are being swept
Of their decades-old terror,
My adult me realising that
I am in control.
She’s held my hands
And my feet,
Given me warm cushions to soothe my cold.
We hold each other
As each marathon session
Ends.
The power of belief, of trust, of
Skills, knowledge and compassion
Combine to elevate me
And heal my soul.
I leave exhausted,
My brain fizzing and emotions a-swirl.
Days later, the dust has settled
And I’m further along the road to
Recovery.
The hard work is mostly mine,
But I couldn’t have done it without you.
Thank you,
Claire.